


The Laundromat

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [304]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, au-no powers, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where they meet at a Laundromat</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Laundromat

**Author's Note:**

> Clint was humming Old time rock and roll under his breath and was tempted to do the dance from Risky Business since he had the attire for it but the lady manning the desk was already glaring at him as it was. He didn’t really need a reason to get thrown out of the laundromat wearing only his tidy-no-no-longer-whities so Clint settled for humming the song under his breath. 

And maybe a little hip wiggle here and there. 

Clint was in the middle of putting detergent into the machine when the bell to the store chimed. He turned his head towards the door more as a habit than actual curiosity.

A man in a dark suit and a pair of aviator glasses walked in and surveyed the place before his eyes landed on the machine next to Clint’s - which was the only available one. He walked towards the machine and placed his aviators, along with some quarters on top of the machine. 

Clint minded his own business and went back to humming his song, but the guy next to him looked like he came right out of a very important meeting and he was standing next to Clint ‘this is the last pair of clean underwear I have so I have to wash my laundry today if I don’t want to wear dirty underwear tomorrow’ Barton. Needless to say, Clint felt very under-dressed. 

Clint was just about to press start on his machine when his eyes strayed and landed on the clothes the man was trying to shove into the machine. The fabric looked expensive, something that’s definitely meant to be machine washed, but what caught Clint’s eye was the disturbing amount of red which looked a bit more like blood than it did ketchup. 

Clint tried as hard as he could not to react, and just pushed start on his machine. He sat down on the bench provided and opened up the Sunday comics he brought while he waited.

Clint liked the Garfield comics. He wished there was more than one strip of it every Sunday, but as it was, he only had one strip today and a one-liner. Not even five minutes passed and he was done with his Sunday comic. Well then. So much for that. 

With a lack for better things to do, Clint turned to the crossword puzzle. He’s never been really good at crosswords, but he wasn’t terrible at it either. He could fill in a few boxes and with the time he needed to kill, he could probably finish the whole thing.

Clint absently noted the man sitting next to him and brandishing what looked like the latest model of Stark Industries’ smartphone. Definitely rich guy then. Clint wondered what kind of rich guy would personally go to a laundromat to wash his own clothes - clothes that were soaked with blood, by the way-

Wait.

Maybe  _that’s_  why the man went to the laundromat. If he let one of his multiple maids wash these clothes, then they would start wondering why there was so much blood, and at which point, they’d already know too much. And the guy would have to kill them. This way he could clean his expensive shirts without anyone questioning the blood stains-

Wait.

If he’s rich, then he can obviously afford to buy new shirts. Cleaning the shirts would be out of the question when he could just burn the ones with the blood stains and buy new ones. That’s be way more practical. Plus, no witnesses or evidence.

“Pavlovian.” The man said.

Clint was on his third theory about the man and the bloody shirts when he was brought back to reality with one word. “Huh?” Clint asked, unsure if he was even the one the guy was talking to.

“24 down. Pavlovian.” The guy repeated.

Clint glanced down at his crossword and noticed only then that his pencil was pointed at 24 down. It must have looked like Clint was trying to figure out what the word was instead of creating weird scenarios about the stranger beside him. 

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Clint wrote down the word and focused more on the crossword and less on the bloody shirts.

He got three more words before the man spoke again. This time, it was clearly not to Clint. It was to someone on the other line of a phone call.

“Yes. I understand. Yes. I’m not going to bring my gun. No, I’m not just saying that. Yes, Yes. I love you too.” The man sighed, pressing the call end button.

Without glancing his direction, Clint talked to him, “Nagging wife?”

The stranger huffed, amused. “Try bossy sister.” 

“Worse.” Clint nodded.

“I’m sorry to ask, but I’m really curious. Why are you only wearing boxers?” The stranger asked. 

Hah.  _He’s_  curious? Clint would very well like to know why this guy’s laundry is bloody. “Ran out of clothes.” Clint shrugged instead. “What about you? You’re sticking out like a sore thumb in this place with your suit, no offense.” 

“None taken. My usual cleaning lady is out for the week, She usually takes my laundry to the laundromat for me.” Clint totally called the maid thing. “And that’s my good suit. I can’t let the blood sit or it’ll be a bitch to get out.” The stranger made a face.

Clint understood the dilemma, well, not really because he tries not to get blood on his clothes, but he’s had to wash out grape jelly once. That’s almost the same. Probably.

“So that was blood I saw. Not some bizarre-o ketchup accident?” Clint asked. For conversation purposes of course. 

“Yeah, I was- wait. no. It’s not what you think. Or at least I hope it’s not what you think.”

Clint shrugged again. “Hey, if someone pissed you off so bad that you had to kill them, I’d say they probably deserved it. You look like a hard guy to piss off.” 

“Thank you?” The stranger said, unsure. “But no. I didn’t kill anyone. I was just- There was an accident in front of the place I worked at. This guy was bleeding and since I had the training, I had to help stop the bleeding somehow. The guy’s fine now, but my suit definitely wasn’t.” 

“Huh.” was all Clint could say after a few moments. “So you’re like a superhero or something.”

“Or something. Definitely not a superhero. I was just at the right place at the right time.” 

Clint straightened out his paper with a thwap and gave the stranger a sideways glance. “Here I thought some guy did you wrong and you decided to get even in the messiest way possible. You did say something about a gun. Maybe secret government agency, or mafia? would’ve been cooler.” 

“Close. I’m a detective. Phil Coulson.” The stranger held out his hand.

Clint gladly took it and shook. “Clint Barton. Elementary School Teacher.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Clint.”

“Likewise, Phil.” They were silent again for a few seconds before Clint leaned closer to Phil and showed him the paper. “15 across. What do you think?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/129914328326/my-friend-dared-me-to-watch-all-of-s10-of)


End file.
